


Mother's Kiss

by trendingtrash



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A letter to Shiro, From Mumma, Gay Shiro (Voltron), I'm not ready for it, It's fluffy., Mention of Adam - Freeform, Shadam, Short, Sweet, Voltron, What ship guys?!?!, Would you call it a letter? Thoughts then. I dunno, adashi, enjoy, season 7 will kill us all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trendingtrash/pseuds/trendingtrash
Summary: Shiro's mother has been the there from the start. And loves him so... and remembers him.





	Mother's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Now, as a part of the Voltron Fandom, I ship the only ship that truly matters – Adashi. Or Shadam, if ya want. Now, as a normal girl how does ship this tasty ship, I thought I’ll take this love for them to the fan fiction level. But this time, it’s not another love interest, or a best friend… or an AU, I want to write something from the view of the mother (which could possibly the worst decision or the best decision in my life… Season 7 will decide that for me. So even if it turns out that dear ol’ Space Dad has no mother, then I am sorry… for both Shiro and the fandom. So, this is purely for sentimental reason, guys. Much love!
> 
> (Spelling errors are ahead! WARNING! But I bet you can handle 'em, especially if you can handle Season 7... (haha, no, nobody won't be able to handle Season 7. Let alone survive it). So if you can't handle the errors, I am immensely sorry.)

I remember you, my son. The soft dark tangle of your hair and the soft but determined nature of your person. You were always a fighter, my dear son. One that would fight for eternity and would continue – I knew your heart. It was strong, passionate and loving – it was fierce as the currents of the waves that broke against rocky shore. Or as hot as the hottest stars known: blue hypergiant stars – it was only natural that you looked to them as well.

I remember you, my son. You were an intelligent child, with a gentle regard to those around you. The Teachers told me to be proud of you and I was. _I am_. You rose above those chains that threatened to smoulder you and you put me in my worried place. I do remember trying to drive you away from the Garrsion; after all, how much time did you have left? And I wanted to see you in those moments, my dearest. Fortunately for you, I loved seeing you rise even more. And rise you did, my beautiful boyo.

I remember you, my son. The one who came to me, as a ripe age to tell me that you had fallen in love. It was a crush as all love was at that age. I thought nothing of it, not even when you showed me to him. I thought it strange that someone could be so natural at demonstrating who they were; when you grew I thought that you would attempt to hide. But you didn’t. You only rose.

I remember you, my son. I remember the wave of confidence that you portrayed yourself in and, oh how much I admired you. Everybody said that I should be proud of you now – wasn’t I previously? Of course, I was: you were a beating heart to people. You were loved. And you loved in return.

Were… _are_.

Now that you stand before me, my son. I am afraid that you are a dream and that you’ll ripple away at my touch. Gone with your dark lock, and replaced with white hair that lead me to believe that you weren’t mine. But I was wrong. Gone with the smoothness of your skin, now scars ran jagged there – you had lost your childish fat long ago, but if possible, you had grown more severe. Once had your eyes reflected those hottest stars, my boy; no longer, they had grown more rueful as though you have seen the edges of the universe and more. Possibly you have and that frightens me. Have you seen Death? Did you fight it off to see those stars again? Did you hear a howling cry of the tormented and only stand before me because you wanted to hear laughter again? Did your mouth utter words that tangled on your tongue and took your breath again? Did you only speak kindness to rid yourself of those bitter memories?

Now that you stand before me, my son. I want to say that I wish I had won that argument. I wish that I had interfered with your life because that risk of seeing you rise hurt too much. You stand before me, and gone with the boy that I thought I had sent off, and now stands a man. I thought that it was my mistake allowing you to leave – you may dismay at my thoughts, but a mother does tend to wonder. I thought that you had died cold and alone in those very stars that you had looked to.

You had walked among those stars before, I know that. But was your destination too much out of your reach? Earlier, I would’ve said yes. But now… you stand before me and I pause.

No, it wasn’t. I see those people that you walk with. I hear stories from Sam. I know that you are a respected among them – how could you not? You are one of the most capable people I know. I stand corrected again; and this time, not in concern, but in happiness that I get to clutch your hands again. I thought you dead and now you have found your way back home. You promised me that you would return, and I wanted to hope. And I did – I even believed. I hope you can forgive me for losing that hope when you were lost. I hope that we can be mother and son again.

I hope you finally get the wedding that you had wanted. I hope you get that happiness that you had always been chasing, because you deserve that. You deserve everything and yet you always give that away. My son, how much memories I have kept close to my heart! So many, that sometimes the lot get indistinguishable from the next. The time you had shown Adam to me. And the time you rung to tell me that he was the one. The time that you had returned from your first Garrsion mission and the time you brought around a small boy named Keith. The time you fall from you bike and instead of crying, you picked yourself back up and got back on (getting the stones from your knees was the absolute most difficult thing I had done). Or the time you had surprised me with breakfast in bed… I could go on. And on. And yet, they seem even more frail now that you stand here.

Had my perception of you always been to so weak? Had I forgotten everything about you? Because now that you stand here, I feel as though those memories were nothing compared to that of your person. How could I wallow in grief, and hold tight to those memories that didn’t compare?     

The answer is that I am your mother – I’m allowed to. But that doesn’t mean that I feel ashamed by the hurt that I had allowed to rule my life for months now. Because you would’ve wanted me to continue with my life – enjoy it whilst I had it. But I hadn’t.

So, for now: I remember you, my son. Your blazing glory and the tidal wave of love that I had always felt for you.

I remember you, my son and despite your wish having gone unnoticed, I hope that you’ll be able to forgive me for my disregard for your wish. Come here, my boy. Let me give you my mother’s kiss.


End file.
